


Reality Check

by loveandwar007



Category: Monster High
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 07:56:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1337902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveandwar007/pseuds/loveandwar007
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Frankie needs a relaxing night off, Holt thinks he knows exactly what to do. But in the end, it might be Frankie who winds up helping Holt out more than either of them imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reality Check

“Thanks, Mr D’eath!” Frankie Stein called cheerfully before exiting the secluded, and rather dark, guidance counselor’s office. Sighing deeply as she walked away, her enthusiasm quickly faded into anxiousness, causing her neck bolts to let off a series of sparks. That had been a completely and utterly _voltageous_ fail.

Now that she was nearing the end of her junior year at Monster High, everyone in her class was required to have a one-on-one appointment with either Mr. D’eath or G. Reaper, depending on where one fell alphabetically, to discuss possible career paths following graduation. The students whose last names began with L through Z had the unfortunate honor of listening to the eternally depressed and pessimistic Mr. D’eath drone on and on about the decline of the monster world and the number of successful jobs for ghouls becoming fewer and fewer. Frankie distinctly remembered her beast friend Clawdeen Wolf storming angrily out of her meeting, growling about how D’eath had basically told her that her dream to own a fashion empire in Scaris was “the stuff of fantasies,” even though she'd had her own runway show in Scaris several months before. This had only made Frankie even more nervous for her own career meeting, not because she had a dream she was afraid Mr. D’eath would crush, but because she didn’t really have a dream at all.

Frankie was a ghoul who lived entirely in the present, who having been newly created by her parents a year and a half ago really had no choice but to take unlife one day at a time. How was she supposed to know what she wanted to do so far into the future when she had only just been born? The only bit of advice D’eath had given her that had been even _remotely_ helpful was “Why not Reanimation like your father?” Well, it wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy watching her dad work in his lab when he let her, even allowing her to assist him on his less complicated projects, and it wasn’t that she didn’t find his branch of Mad Science interesting and wanted to learn how to do it herself. But she just couldn’t see herself following in her dad’s footsteps for the rest of her unlife, not when there was so much else she wanted to explore. That wasn’t the part of the meeting that had left her hopelessly dejected though. It was the fact that she had spent 80 percent of the time with her jaw hanging open stupidly, at a loss for words every time the counselor asked her what careers she had considered. Frankie was still getting used to unliving, she really hadn’t had the time to begin thinking about her fast approaching adulthood. That, apparently, was the wrong answer as D’eath had simply sighed sadly and said, “I think we’re done here, Miss Stein.” Maybe she needed a second opinion from Reaper. Sure he was freakishly intimidating, but at least he wouldn’t dismiss her as if she were a hopeless case.

But maybe she _was_ a hopeless case. What was she really good at? She could cook, but nowhere near as well as Deuce Gorgon. She could sew, but nowhere near as well as Skelita Calaveras or Wydowna Spider. She had a good figure for modeling, but the thought of competition with Nefera de Nile made her stomach churn. And while she was interested in Mad Science, she didn’t study it as thoroughly or was as driven towards it as her boyfriend Jackson Jekyll. Being a year older than her and having already went through this, he told her not to worry too much about the dreaded ‘career meeting.’

“They make it out to be a way bigger deal than it actually is,” Jackson had told her the night before over the phone when she had called him up to vent about her pre-meeting jitters. “I mean seriously, who knows what they want to do the rest of their life at sixteen years old?”

“You did,” Frankie pointed out sullenly.

“Frankie, don’t stress out about it. It’s only a half an hour and then you’re done. Then when you actually get to college, you can change your mind five times just like everyone else. You’re smart and you’re passionate. You’ll find something that fits you.”

But college was still over a year away, and right now all Frankie could dwell on was how terribly her meeting had turned out. She kept going over and over it in her head, going down the mental list of her skills and scratching each off, becoming more and more discouraged that by the time she finally reached her locker she felt like crying. Maybe she should find Holt Hyde, Jackson’s alter ego, and tell him she was calling off their date tonight. A loud night at a club surrounded by tons of people just didn’t sound like fun anymore. She really just wanted to be alone.

_“Yo Frankie!”_ called the blue-skinned, fiery-haired DJ from halfway down the hall, as if he knew she had just been thinking about him. Bounding towards her as everyone in the hall glanced between them, he lifted her up in his arms and spun her around. “I missed you, it’s been like two days! I mean I know Jackie boy had that big test in Biteology, but come _on!_ I can’t live without my daily Fine Stein fix!”

Frankie managed a small grin as she pecked him on the lips, the onlookers chuckling warmly before going about their own businesses. “Thanks for the greeting, Holt, but I need to talk to you--”

“Hey, I got some bad news,” Holt cut in as if he hadn’t heard her. “Turns out my gig at the Graveyard Smash got cancelled. So looks like I’m free to do whatever _you_ wanna do tonight!”

“Oh! Uh--I, uh--” Frankie started to spark under the pressure of keeping an upbeat appearance in front of Holt. But the weight of everything that was still on her mind settled in, making it impossible for her to do so. She decided to just get right to the point. “Listen Holt, to be honest I really don’t feel like going out tonight.”

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Holt asked, just noticing now how upset she looked. “I’ve never seen you lookin’ so low-voltage.”

"I just had my career meeting with Mr. D'eath and it was a total disaster," Frankie admitted as the details spilled out. "I just hate that I don't feel ready to venture into the real world. Clawdeen's gonna be a fashion designer, Ghoulia's gonna be in the medical field, Jackson's gonna be a mad scientist, even _you_ know you wanna do something related to music! Everyone knows what they want except _me!_ "

“I know how that is, _nothin’_ brings me down more than thinkin’ about the future,” Holt mumbled before wrapping his arms back around her waist. “That’s why I like to distract myself with a mix studio pumpin’ out a bangin’ soundtrack!”

“Good,” Frankie said, nodding with a smile. “Then you can make a new mix tonight and I’ll stay home by myself.”

“Frankie Fine,” Holt pulled her a little closer. “It sounds to me like you need a little somethin’-somethin’ to take your mind off it.”

“Like?” Frankie asked, her eyebrows raised.

“If you’re home alone, all you’re gonna be thinkin’ about is that dumb career thing!” Holt scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You’ll just make yourself more and more stressed out about it. I think a night with the Holt-ster is _exactly_ what you need right now.”

“You think?” Frankie said quietly.

“I _know_ ,” Holt replied suavely. “I’ll swing by around seven and drive you back to my place. We’ll have one smokin’ electric time tonight.”

“Well...okay,” Frankie gave in. “But not too late.”

“Trust me, I don’t wanna get on your dad’s bad side,” Holt said, squeezing her behind which caused her to spark her locker door before he walked away. “Seven tonight, Frankie! Can’t _wait!_ ”

“Yeah...me neither,” Frankie waved back half-heartedly. True, it had been awhile since she’d been out with Holt and she owed it to him, but she didn’t think it was fair if her heart and soul wasn’t completely in it. But maybe it would be worth it. Maybe a distraction was what she needed.

Or maybe too much distraction would push her further away from her goal: Finding her niche in the monster world.

~

“Whoo-hoo! Frankie Fine, you look di- _vine!_ ” Holt called out as he revved up the engine on his car and sped off down the street, eyeing his ghoulfriend in the seat beside him.

“Oh, thanks,” Frankie smiled down at the black and silver dress adorned in a lightning bolt design she decided to wear. “So, what’re we doing tonight?”

“Just hangin’ out at my place,” Holt replied, bopping his head along to the music on his Mp3 blaring out of the car speakers. “Frankie?”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to hang onto the door handle for dear unlife like ya are right now.”

“Oh, sorry!” Frankie jolted her hand back from the handle as if she’d been burned. Usually when she rode with Holt he, well, took certain liberties with the speed limit.

“Jackson said he’s gonna make sure I can’t come out for a long time if I get him a ticket again. And besides.” He leaned over and winked at her, “I got goods that could get damaged if I’m not careful.”

“Holt,” Frankie shyly tucked a strand of black and white hair behind her ear as she sparked embarrassedly.  “How do you always manage to make me feel better about myself?”

“‘Cause you’re better than you think, Fine Stein,” Holt answered simply as he swerved smoothly into his driveway. As they exited the car and mounted the steps to the front door of the old fashioned one-story, Holt leaped in front of Frankie to unlock the door and push it open, "After you, m’lady.”

“Where’s your mom?” Frankie asked as she stepped into the front room, kicking off her four-inch bolt heels into the corner.

“Mama Hyde wanted to go to the bar tonight, so I said ‘Go have fun, don’t stay out too late!’” Holt joked in a motherly voice, shutting the door behind him and taking Frankie's jacket from her. “Trust me, you think _I’m_ wild? You should see her after a shot of te-kill-a!”

“Did she know I was coming?” Frankie asked slowly.

“I think I told her, not sure if she heard me,” Holt cocked his head to the side, squinting as he tried to remember. “She wouldn’t care though, she’s cool about me havin’ ghouls over. Mama J on the other hand--”

“Whoa whoa wait, how many ghouls do you have over?” Frankie cut in sharply, and Holt’s eyes widened.

“Oh no baby, not like _that!_ ” he blurted out quickly, taking her hands in his. “I mean like when Oppy comes over to mix, or Catty records some vocals for us, that’s all I meant!” He kissed her lips, snaking his arms around her back as he trapped her against his chest. Luckily, Frankie was a willing prisoner to his embrace. “There ain’t a ghoul in the entire monster world who can gimme a charge like you do.”

“Voltage,” she murmured, giggling as Holt worked his lips along the underside of her jaw, careful to avoid her neck bolts. He’d made _that_ mistake for the first and last time not long ago. Not only had he lost feeling in his lips, but he didn’t have any taste buds for over two weeks afterwards either. This time, he was gonna be careful. Frankie needed to relax, to clear her mind from all the stress closing in on her, and that was what he was here to do for his ghoul.

“So how about your dad?” Frankie shifted the subject a bit, and Holt pulled away from her neck suddenly. For a minute Frankie thought she accidently shocked him before noticing he looked a little uncomfortable.

“Uh, Dad hasn’t been around for awhile,” Holt said a bit dismissively, pulling away from her to head into the kitchen. From the tonal shift in his voice, Frankie got the impression she had either said something she shouldn’t have or Holt wasn’t willing to elaborate any more than that. She decided to go with the latter and didn’t press it further. Following him into the kitchen, Holt offered her several drinks from the fridge, everything from vitamin water to soda pop to a brown drink in a glass bottle that smelled bad to Frankie and tasted even worse when Holt offered her a sip.

“Got any new songs you wanna fill me in on before they make their debut?” Frankie asked over the top of the cola she’d opted for.

“Hmm, I _might_ let you listen to a couple of previews of things I got comin’ up for prom,” Holt leaned back, rocking on the hind legs of his seat as he tossed a second empty bottle into the garbage can. “Wanted it to be a surprise, but I think I can tell _you_.”

“My lips are stitched,” Frankie mimed drawing a finger across her lips, then stood as she pulled Holt out of his seat before he fell over in his chair. “C’mon, let’s go listen.”

“ _Whoa_ , don’t stand so fast, Frankie!” Holt stumbled a bit, hanging onto her shoulders for support as he found his footing. Pulling her by the arm, he led her around the corner to his and Jackson’s bedroom. “He moved my shelf again!” the half fire elemental hollered as he kicked aside Jackson’s Casketball jersey lying on the floor to pull out the shelf in question that housed his mix CDs, setting on the end of the bed. “I swear, if he wasn’t me, I’d kill him!"

“You can’t do that, he’s my boyfriend and I love him,” Frankie teased, sitting down on the bed. It was hard enough dating both of them, sometimes humor was the only thing she could resort to in order to diffuse the tension.

“And I’ll never understand that,” Holt rolled his eyes, setting up his laptop on the desk beside them before picking up a remote control. “Besides, can he do _this?_ ” Aiming the control at the wall over his shoulder, the lights on the ceiling dimmed low, flickering slightly as if a dozen candles had been lit in the room. Gazing deep into Frankie’s eyes, she no longer seemed nervous or upset about earlier that day. Rather in the dim light, she looked positively radiant, her smile almost glowing in the dark, ready to receive his affections.

Slithering back onto the bed, Holt kissed her hard again, so hard Frankie fell backwards against his pillows. He threw off his red leather jacket, his lips never leaving hers as he continued to express his passions to the absolute most perfect ghoul in the world, who deserved to feel happiness and to know she was worth everything in the world and then some. He only hoped he could be responsible for some of that contentment when she needed it most.

“You’re beautiful, baby,” Holt whispered as they turned over onto their sides, stopping to catch their breath. Frankie sighed as a rapturous tear rolled off the end of her nose, and she resumed caressing his lips with hers to smother any more urges to cry. If anything made her emotional, it was love and romance and what it felt like to have someone want to kiss you like this. Frankie thought she’d be lucky if she ever got to experience the romance Cleo and Deuce or Clawd and Draculaura did every day, that there would be someone out there willing to give her a chance. There was more to Holt than met the eye, Frankie had grown to understand that. He wasn’t like Heath; when he told a ghoul she was beautiful, he wasn’t just talking about the way she looked. When he embraced her, hugged her against him as they lay together on the bed making out, Frankie knew he meant she had a beautiful soul as well.

“How was that?” Holt breathed, sneaking one more kiss at her cheek, right on her stitched scar.

“Smelley,” Frankie grimaced at bit. “Your breath stinks. Must be that brown stuff you were drinking.”

“Aw dangit!” Holt shouted, sitting up so suddenly that he accidentally tossed Frankie over the edge of the bed. “The beer! I gotta get rid of those empty bottles before Mom sees 'em in the trash! Stay here, I’ll be back in a hot minute!” Leaping off the bed, he rushed out of the room as Frankie pulled herself up from the floor.

"I'm fine, it's all good..." she said weakly, watching him go. He did have a tendency to be obnoxious and inconsiderate sometimes, but no one was perfect. Sitting back down on the mattress, she combed her black nails through her now tangled long hair and moved to straighten her dress when she thought something felt a little odd. Reaching around her back, she felt that her dress zipper was all the way down. Her brow furrowed curiously. Did Holt do that when they were kissing?

“Weird,” Frankie shook her head as she tugged the zipper closed. Shifting over, she ran her finger down the titles in Holt’s mix CD corral. Finding the one labeled “Prom Night 2014” she opened the case to find two discs inside. Neither of them were labeled as Frankie glanced between the two, wondering which was the right one. Shrugging, she put the top one in the laptop drive and plugged a pair of headphones left out into the computer jack.

The tune started out mellow and gentle, and at first Frankie figured she must have come across one of the slow dances for the night. But the more she listened, the more she realized this wasn’t his normal techno rock style. It was very simple acoustics with a little autotune to smooth out the vocals. It didn't sound like anything written for a dance, or any DJ gig for that matter. As the lyrics sung by Holt himself flowed out, it sounded way too personal to be something he'd put out to the general public.

At this point Frankie knew she should have stopped listening, but it just kept pulling her in the more she heard. It was so beautifully sad, like nothing she or anyone she knew would have expected from Holt. It wasn't just a song, it was a story. One about someone who appeared confident but didn't always feel it. Someone who wanted to please everyone, but some days couldn't even please himself. And worst of all, someone who felt worthless in the eyes of those closest to him. Who in the long run didn't really have anything special or noteworthy to write home about, and it killed him to realize he was disappointing everyone. Frankie couldn't figure out why she'd started to cry silently, but towards the end of the final chorus it hit her like a bolt of lightning. Not only was she shedding tears for Holt's sake, but on some level, with everything that was bringing her down recently, she could relate to this feeling. Maybe she had a lot more in common with the hot wilder side of her boyfriend than she ever realized before.

"Whew, that was a close one!" came Holt's panting shout as he breezed back into the room. "So where'd we leave off?"

_"Eek!"_ Frankie shrieked, his shout startling her so badly she threw the headphones off her ears before her voltage sparked them dead. "Um--uh--I don't know, where _were_ we?"

"What're you listenin' to?"

"Th--the prom stuff," she stammered, holding up the case.

"Why are you cryin'?"

"I'm not," Frankie insisted, swiping her face dry. As Holt turned to look over at the laptop screen, his face hardened. His red eyes grew cold and his jaw set tightly.

"That ain't the prom stuff."

"I know, I figured that much out."

"Why'd you go rootin' through my stuff, Frankie?!"

"I--I was just looking for something to do while I wait--"

"Not everything's all organized, I'm not Jackson! Some stuff's mixed up! Some stuff is _private!_ Why couldn't you just leave it alone?!"

"Holt I'm so sorry, I had no idea," Frankie covered her mouth with her hands.

"No one was _ever_ supposed to hear this! I don't _want_ anyone to hear this, got it?!"

"I'll put it away," Frankie stood hastily, grabbing the CD case from the desk.

"No, _I'll_ put it away! You just _stay out of it!_ " Holt roared, ripping the case from her so hard that he took her hand with it, completely tearing it from the stitching on her wrist.

"Okay..." Frankie's lower lip trembled as Holt stared down at her hand still clinging to the case. His hard breaths began to simmer down into softer ones, gently removing the mint green hand and holding it in his. It trembled just being in his grip. His gaze shifted back up to hers, his eyes now looking panicked and frightened.

"I'm sorry..."

"It happens all the time," Frankie tried to keep her voice steady as she reattached her hand to her arm.

"No, I'm sorry about--"

"It's my fault, I sh--" Holt threw the case aside and cut Frankie off mid-word as he grabbed her and pulled her close.

"You didn't deserve that," Holt whispered in her ear, _"I'm sorry, Frankie."_ Frankie tensed as Holt crashed her against him, afraid for a moment that he was going to take more of his anger out on her. Then the relaxation set into her neck, shoulders and finally her arms as she wrapped them around him as well. No matter how much he hadn't wanted her to hear that song, she had still heard it. And now all of the emotions Holt had expressed, those that he normally kept hidden, came back to the surface of Frankie's mind as she clutched him harder. She felt him rubbing her back and hair as her whole body convulsed, wetting his shoulder with tears.

"I just...I thought it was so...it really meant something..."

“ _Shhh..._ it’s okay, it’s okay,” Holt murmured gently, kissing the side of her face as he sat her down on the bed with him. Pulling back, he wiped a few of her tears away while letting out a dark chuckle. “Some way to chill you out, huh? I try to give my ghoulfriend a good time and I get mad at her and rip her hand off.”

“No, you were right to get mad, I shouldn’t have touched your stuff without asking,” Frankie said softly, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. She watched as Holt idly glanced at the CD case he’d picked up again. “What’s it called? The song?”

“‘Reality Check,’” Holt sighed. “‘Cause let’s face it, I need one.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m an expert screw-up, Frankie,” he went on, turning away from her to rest his elbows on his knees dejectedly. “I’m lousy at anythin’ that doesn’t have to do with my music, no one takes me seriously ‘cause let’s face it, that’s what Jackson’s there for, and I’m selfish and unreliable ‘cause of the whole Hyde thing. It’s what’s makes my mom love me less than Jackson, and it’s what made my dad leave!” Holt whipped his head back in Frankie’s direction, “There, now you know.”

“Your dad’s gone?” Frankie asked, another tear escaping to roll down her cheek. “For good?”

“Probably,” Holt muttered, rubbing his hands over his eyes. “It was hard enough for him bein’ married to my mom and her condition. After the truth got out about me and JJ, I guess...he just couldn’t handle _two_ of us dealin’ with it. He don’t have the thickest skin.”

Now it was Frankie’s turn to hold him, letting him rest his downcast head on her chest. She recalled a day a couple of weeks ago, when Jackson had come into school with puffy red-rimmed eyes behind his glasses. He told her it was allergies plus staying up late to study for midterms, then he smiled and held her close, saying he was just happy she was there. She had never thought anything of it after then, now she mentally kicked herself for her naivety at not picking up on the signs that there was more going on. That must have been around the time his and Holt’s father had up and left. “I’m sorry…” She literally didn’t know what else to say.

“Thanks babe,” Holt said under his breath as she kissed the top of his head. “It’s been hard. Mom’s been turnin’ into Hyde a lot more often and goin’ out drinkin’, so _I_ started drinkin’ ‘cause--’cause I guess I feel like it’s my fault too, ya know?”

“But it’s not,” Frankie said earnestly, pulling away from him. “Holt, you’re not perfect. You get on my nerves, you have a horrible temper and you’re one of the most self-centered guys I know!”

“Frankie, I don’t think you read the ghoulfriend manual, you’re supposed to make me _feel better_ \--”

“But you’re also fun and upbeat and positive! You make everyone happy, and when you walk into a room it instantly jolts to life! You’re creative and expressive. You don’t just write music to get monsters dancing, you write songs that tell stories and _mean_ something. You’re a much more complex person than you seem to be, and you surprise me every day. You genuinely care about people Holt. You love your mom, your dad, me, you even love--”

“Don’t say it.”

“You even love Jackson,” Frankie finished with a large toothy smile, and Holt moaned loudly and fell backwards on the bed, his hands clamped over his head. “You _know_ I’m right.”

“Did ya have to say it out loud?!” Holt wailed as if he were in physical pain. “Don’t you dare tell him Frankie, I’m beggin’ you!”

“I won’t, but only because I know you’ll slip up and tell him yourself someday,” Frankie continued to smile slyly, pulling him by his arms so he’d sit upright again. She kept his hands in hers as she inched herself closer to him. “I don’t care how much you believe it, Holt, it’s not your fault your dad left. So stop taking it out on yourself like it is. Don’t drink that stuff every night, talk to your mom. She loves you too, she wants what's best for you.  If she’s not around, talk to me. I’m not just here to laugh at your jokes and smile at your compliments, I’m here _for you_. I love you just as much as I love Jackson, no less.” Her eyes dripped tears once more, soaking the front of her dress as she gripped Holt’s hands even tighter. “Please don’t hurt yourself because you think you’re not good enough. It doesn’t just hurt you, it hurts me too. And if anything awful happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do!”

Holt brought his arms up around her again, kissing her tear-stained cheeks. “I’d never wanna hurt you, Frankie. _Ever_.” His kiss deepened once he made contact with her lips. “I love you, too. And my mom. And... _Jackson_ ,” he admitted through gritted teeth as Frankie laughed through a sob. “And I guess if Dad wants out, well that’s his big loss. ‘Cause _he’s_ the one missin’ out.”

“He sure is,” Frankie nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck as they embraced passionately. They stayed like that for a few moments, basking in the love and support radiating from each other’s touch, each hoping desperately they were measuring up to the other. For Frankie, it was like falling into a trance or a deep sleep of some sort, with Holt acting as her support so she didn’t have to wake up anytime soon.

At least not until Holt gasped out loud, wrenching himself from her sharply. “I got it!”

“Got what?” Frankie cried out, feeling for her neck stitches to make sure none of them tore.

“Your future, Frankie Fine!” Holt exclaimed. “Your career! The thing you’re good at!”

“Really?!” Frankie gasped as she sparked excitedly. “What is it?!”

“You’re great at helpin’ people out,” Holt replied, “Talkin’ to them, workin’ their problems out. Ya know, showin’ them that for every weakness they have, there’s also a strength.” His red eyes sparkled as he got ready to deliver the big finish, “You could be a counselor!”

“A counselor,” Frankie trailed off thoughtfully, “You think so? You think that’s my niche?”

“It’s an idea,” Holt grinned, clearly pleased about thinking that up all by himself. “You’d sure make people feel better about themselves instead of makin’ ‘em feel worse like that sad sack D’eath.”

“Yeah...yeah, why not?” Frankie said confidently. “I love helping people out, it’s sorta my thing! Holt, I really think you might be onto something!”

“You should ask Bloodgood if she can get you in with Reaper and run it by him. I bet he could hook ya up with the right colleges and stuff.”

“Thank you!” Frankie squealed happily, hugging him tightly again. “Thank you, thank you, _thank you!_ This turned out to be a way more productive date than I thought it would be.”

“That makes two of us,” Holt agreed, glancing sideways over at the clock. “Also a _long_ one! I better get you back home before your dad decides to cut me open!” Flinging himself off the bed, he dashed into the hall and grabbed her coat before running back inside the room and flinging it at her. “C’mon let’s go!”

“Hey Holt, wait up a sec!”

“Yeah?” Holt whirled to face her.

“Aren’t you gonna make me a copy of the prom music so I can listen to it?”

“Oh--oh yeah! Forgot about that,” Holt chuckled as he opened the CD case and pulled out the correct disc this time. “Comin’ right up.”

“And Holt?” Frankie asked slowly, folding her jacket in her lap. “There’s one thing I need to ask you.”

“As you wish, Fine Stein.”

“Why was my dress zipper all the way down?”

Holt froze, his hand over the laptop mouse, “Uh...well, about that, I uh...how ‘bout I tell you when you’re older?”

Frankie rolled her eyes, “I hate when people say that. I’m not a child, you can tell me!”

So Holt told her exactly why he undid her dress zipper, as Frankie’s eyes grew large and round as saucers the more he explained. He couldn’t help smirking at the absolute look of shock on her face.

“On second thought, maybe you should’ve waited ‘til I was older,” Frankie squeaked out, her bolts letting off a long string of flustered sparks. Maybe she was being forced to grow up faster than she wanted to, but even then...there were still some things Frankie didn’t mind waiting to understand.

_The End_


End file.
